


Longing

by orphan_account



Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: Dreaming, Masturbation, One Shot, Panty Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-17
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-10-11 15:24:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17449553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Aether is gone on the road again when dreams of his favorite, Sister Anna, wake him from a deep sleep





	Longing

Aether dreams of her. In his mind’s eye, he sees Anna.

 

He sees her that one day she left the bathroom door open. He sees her standing behind the glass walls of the shower, among the cloudy mist produced by the hot water. He stands in the doorway, observing from a distance how the water falls along her skin. The rivulets of water glide across her every curve, from her pert nipples to the gentle roundness of her bum. He watches her lather the soap on her skin, watching the bubbles that form, cling to her. He watches her hands move across her body, from her shoulders, to her chest, down to her legs, and how he wishes it were his hands instead.

 

He stirs in his sleep, he knows he is dreaming, but it feels so real. He feels the warmth of the mist, the humidity emanating in the room before him; as well as the twitch in his groin. His deep sleep becomes shallower and lighter, as he continues to stay within his dream, the sensations becoming all the more real. He watches as she slides her hands all over herself, rinsing the suds from her skin. He wished it were his hands instead. The longer he watches her, the stronger the desire from deep within his core grows. He feels the sensation rush outwards across his entire body, gooseflesh rising through this skin.

 

He is awake now.

 

Aether opens his eyes, seeing nothing but white. He lay on his stomach, face buried in his pillow; a pale body tangled in a sea of snow white sheets. He curses to no one, he did not want to leave that dream, and the stiffness resting against his belly proved that.

 

He rolls onto his back, he stares at the dark ceiling of his hotel room and the darkness stared back. He was longing for her, the three days that he’d been gone on the road felt like three centuries.

 

He screws his eyes shut, trying to recapture the sensations that his dream brought upon him, trying to capture Anna in his mind once more. Slowly, he relaxes again, his body almost drifting off to sleep...but more images flashed in his mind.

 

He saw her now, in this bed; her hair splayed across the sheets, her body writhing in sweet agony. Beads of sweat roll off her skin, her eyes clenched shut as she cried for him, cried out his name, begging. The way her voice cracked, the way she moaned and screamed, it was the sweetest music that ever blessed his ears. Her voice grew louder and louder.. Crying, begging..

 

Aether’s eyes fly open. He looks around, as if to make sure it was just a dream, but, he didn’t want it to be. It felt so real, the sound of her voice directly meeting his ears. He let out a frustrated groan, his hands forming fists and rubbing his eyes. He drops his hands to his stomach, where one slides its way to his crotch. He lets out a sigh as his hand finds his sensitive member. He closes his eyes as he begins to lazily stroke himself.

 

- _Fuck it_.- He thought.

 

He reaches over to his bedside table, searching for his trophy. He quickly finds it: a treasured piece of cloth. He pushes it to his nose and inhales deeply, taking in the sweet, sweet scent of her. As he settled back into the pillows,he chuckles, remembering how much it annoyed her that he always somehow ended up keeping her underwear whenever they had sex.

 

He inhales once again, his other hand pumping away as he begins to picture her. He imagines himself between her thighs, the scent of the underwear triggering memories of how she tasted, his tongue lapping up her sweet juices. The feel of her throbbing clit against his tongue, and how she moaned his name every time he’d lick and flick over it. The thought alone was enough to send him over the edge, but he won’t settle just yet. He once again rummaged over the top of the nightstand, finding a bottle of lube and squeezing its contents onto his palm. He settles back into position, pushing the underwear to his face again and wraps his lubricated hand to his dick. He begins to stroke himself once more.

 

In his mind he pictures her once again, this time with her wet mouth around his cock. The magic that was her tongue twirling around his head, tracing every vein; teasing and pleasing. He rubbed his thumb over the foreskin and head of his slick cock, remembering how much she liked to tease him, how she would place kisses on his head, her licking underneath his foreskin, swirling her tongue between it and his head making him groan from beneath her. In those moments, she had him at the palm of her hand, free to do as she pleased, in control of all of his desires.

 

He continues to work his hand along his shaft, each stroke feeding the burn within him. He moves his hand faster now, his senses overwhelmed with lust and passion, all he wants to do now is come, but, more images flash in his mind. As he effortlessly glides his hand over his cock, he sees her once again, laying on her back, her beautiful breasts bouncing in time with his thrusts. He hears her cries once again, her aching voice calling his name, begging him for release.

 

It’s so real; with each cry she eggs him on, making him work harder, for himself and for her. The mounting pressure builds from within him, he can almost feel her fingers digging into his hips. He presses her underwear into his face, inhaling deeply. It is so real. His senses are completely overwhelmed, her scent overpowering him with pure lust that continues to build up inside him. The line between fantasy and reality begins to blur, and with a few final strokes and her voice ringing in his ears, he came. 

 

His body becomes rigid as he spills himself all over his torso and the sheets around him. The hand to his face goes limp and drops to his chest, where he bunches her panties into his fist, while the other continues to lightly stroke himself, as if to make sure every last bit of his frustration and longing desire is finally released. His eyes are closed, and he laughs.

 

If he didn’t know any better, he’d say she has quite the hold on him.


End file.
